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Fun for All Ages at Albertson’s

I’m miffed by fellow Anteaters who gripe in ultrasonic frequencies about the alleged lack of things to do in Irvine. It’s not that it’s boring here. Rather, people have different standards of fun.
I suspect the whiners were victims of an overactive childhood, in which every morning their mothers poured them Ecstasy Flakes with adrenaline-supplemented milk from mad cows.
Maybe before coming to UCI they were on their high school Bungee Jumping From An Orbiting Space Platform teams.
Probably if we basted them with steak sauce, dressed them in suits of salami and then sat them in the front row at ‘Siegfried and Roy,’ the hungry white tigers would be repelled by the constant squeals of ‘I’m booored.’
Even if you personally are one of those people, there is hope for you. Just go to the Campus Albertson’s and treat it like an amusement park. It’s been easy ever since the workers went on strike, leaving all the merchandise free for looting.
No, there are substitute scabs working, and most (not all) have the training necessary to stop you from sneaking out with bags of Oreos crammed in your cheeks, chipmunk style.
Here’s a trick: Use the freezer section as your personal canvas. Open those doors and draw with your finger in the condensation that forms.
Personally, I’m fond of scrawling anti-war, pro-Eggo slogans.
Not the creative type? Try relocating unsuspecting members of the produce family such as celery into the same freezer.
Or for some explosive fun, you can slip in glass bottles of carbonated beverage.
That frozen celery will become a handy defensive club once the scabs realize what you’re up to.
Alternatively, you can evade them in a shopping cart. No, how about two shopping carts, one for each foot? You’ll have to stick to the wider aisles, but it’s challenges such as these that serve to enhance our characters.
This will of course be exhilarating, but it will only delay the inevitable. The scabs are going to catch you. But that’s when you take charge and initiate the following conversation:
‘Sorry, I was just looking for your anal lube.’
‘What? Um, aisle seven.’
‘No, I mean YOUR anal lube.’
In the confusion, retreat to the meats section, because why not? Here you will re-enact the acclaimed Carl’s Jr. commercial titled ‘Man Pokes Meat.’ You probably remember it if you are not a normal life-having person.
The trick is to nail the motivations and expressions just so. Approach the shelves of shrink-wrapped meat cautiously, as if a sudden movement would scare the meat back to the farm, leaving you meatless.
Remember, you lust after this meat, and it reciprocates. But you are not without a certain longing for a past love, that of a certain unfaithful bacon cheeseburger.
Those bridges are burned now. Make certain you’re alone, then reach out sans trepidation and …
Actually, if you look constipated, that’s a good approximation. Just poke the meat already. It’s fun.
Now, have you got your rural Eskimo clothing? Of course you do. You’re going to need it in the chilly walk-in beer fridge, which is located in aisle AA. It objectifies the two most important aspects of our search for entertainment in Irvine:
1) Alcohol.
2) Not a thing else.
Peering inside, it may seem as if there is a lot of beer, quantity-wise. But in fact (I have tested this) there is only enough to cover the state of California to a depth of 20,000 feet.
OK, so maybe there is a good amount, but it’s nothing you can’t handle on your own provided you pace yourself. Consume all the brews on all the shelves over the course of about an hour, remembering to intermittently down a Smirnoff Ice to keep hydrated.
Also maybe try to duck in the corner where you won’t be detected, as it can be hard to miss an intoxicated eskimo in Orange County.
Now that you’ve had a few drinks, in the tradition of ‘If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,’ you’re going to want a glass of belligerence.
Please note that I don’t condone violent behavior except in certain situations, such as all of them. So I say you’re good to pick fights with anyone

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